


The tracks of my tears

by Samsangel_Gabrielsmoose



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Feels, Gabriel's self esteem issues, M/M, so many tears, to be continued maybe?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-25 12:22:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6194968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samsangel_Gabrielsmoose/pseuds/Samsangel_Gabrielsmoose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a little thing I wrote and then didn't know what to do with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The tracks of my tears

**Author's Note:**

> Should I continue this? I don't know.

Gabriel looked into the mirror. A pair of uninspiring hazel eyes stared right back at him. He passed his hand over his face, over the nose that didn’t quite fit, the thin lips and the overbite. He pressed his fingers into the weak jaw and the five o’clock shadow. Nothing was right.

He pulled his tshirt over his head and looked at the dusky freckles on his shoulders. He traced each one with his fingernail, leaving red lines in between. He felt the sharp dip of his collar bone, the smooth crest of his chest. Touched each mole and stretchmark. Pressed his fingers onto his ribs. Searched for the faint muscle definition in his stomach. Nothing was right.

Frustrated, he clawed the soft skin, watching red trails appear and fade into white. He balled his hands into fists and the watched the face in the mirror crumble, ugly fat tears slipping around the crinkles of his eyes. He swiped angrily at his face and turned away, snatching up his tshirt from the floor. He hated days like this, days when he hated himself. Days when every mirrored surface was a curse, days where he could barely hold a spoon and see his own face in it without wanting to weep.

He touched his mouth, pressing at his lips to cease their quivering. He couldn’t bear to look into the mirror again, even to check if his eyes were rimmed with red or not. He slipped the tshirt over his head and pulled in a sharp breath. He could do this.

He had to do this. Sam was waiting outside the bathroom door. Beautiful, flawless Sam. Sam, who treated Gabriel like a prince and made him feel like he was worth something.

Sam couldn’t see him like this. It would ruin everything. Perhaps he might start to see Gabriel the way everyone else did.

Gabriel covered his mouth to muffle a sob. He pressed his knuckles into his eyes. He could do this, it was Sam, just Sam, Sam who always treated him right.

He pushed open the door. No going back now.

He walked to the lounge, one foot in front of the other. Sam was on the couch, looking as perfect and strong and wonderful as he always did. He greeted Gabriel with one of those special smiles, so full of genuine pleasure that Gabriel almost, _almost_ ran right back to the bathroom. He didn’t deserve to have someone look at him like that. Especially not Sam.

He managed to smile back and mumble a greeting, but Sam’s smile dropped anyway. He looked concerned, like he knew what was wrong already. Gabriel knew what was coming.

He knew Sam would pull him onto his lap, call him baby, and hold him close like he was something precious. In fact, Sam was already going through the motions, standing up and walking closer, holding out his hand. Gabriel felt his breathing quicken.

Why did it have to be like this? He hated these days, days when he was completely useless. Days when he couldn’t even look at his boyfriend without crying.

And crying he was, hot tears falling down his cheeks. He covered his face in shame, turning away from Sam. He was pathetic and he couldn’t bare for Sam to see it.

It was too late. Strong arms were already wrapping around him and pulling him close to a solid warmth. Gabriel tried to struggle. He wanted to pull away but Sam was too strong- Sam always had been too strong. He whimpered pathetically and pushed at Sam’s chest but it was no use. He started to cry harder and Sam held him close, stroking his hair.

“It’s okay.” He whispered. “Let it out. Its’s okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are my life blood.


End file.
